


where angels fear to thread

by orphan_account



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: College AU, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Modern AU, Why do I torture myself this way, i'm so tired guys, rupert is gay and panicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: rupert likes to make clothes and amir is insanely hot.(or: Just something I wrote because I don't like sleeping and I needed to get accustomed to writing the two princes content)(THANK YOUPRINXOFTHEFLAMINGHEARTFOR GIVING ME THE TITLE YOU'RE THE BEST SERIOUSLY)
Relationships: Prince Amir/Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

Rupert wasn't good at his job.

That's what he said. That's what he had to believe, because if he thought otherwise and got too cocky he was convinced his talent would immediately leave his body and go to haunt some other poor soul who was struggling to balance their schoolwork and their sanity.

He was a fashion designer. Sort of. More accurately; he was a college student with a surprising amount of free time on his hands. He enjoyed to use the fabric his mom kept sending him to create better, more intricate clothing, and one day he'd messed around with Cecily which had ended up with him having an Instagram account under the alias _rupert.makes.clothes,_ a username that was very precise and boring and gradually getting on Rupert's nerves but he never found the time or creativity to come up with a better one, but that wasn't the point.

It'd started out small. Pictures of silk and clothing moodboards slathered in various amounts of filters Rupert had found aesthetically pleasing and Cecily had insisted on. Then it escalated into actual photos of some of his best work (in his opinion) on the mannequins he had around his apartment, to IGTV videos on the basics of designing and making clothes, and _oh no,_ suddenly he had an audience of people who seemed actually, genuinely interested in what he was doing.

Which was slightly terrifying, to say the least.

It was doing wonders to Rupert's self confidence which was most decidedly _not okay_ because he wanted to remain _modest_ and _unimportant_ and _selfless_ and not the absolute EXACT OPPOSITE OF THAT.

He was now assertive enough to begin wearing some of his work in public, and it was both exciting yet a bit of a disappointment to be met with fellow humans who really and truly didn’t give a damn that his work was good enough to be considered actual clothing.

“Technically it is actual clothing,” Cecily had informed him one day when they were both on Rupert’s pull-out couch, gushing over cute animal videos and getting very existential over Rupert’s disbelief of his ‘absolute greatness’. “I mean. Transparent plastic heels were actual clothing.”

“Ew, what? That was a thing? How was that a thing?”

“I KNOW RIGHT WHAT WERE THEY THINKING.”

“Wh…wait, is this your way of saying my clothing is the equivalent in stupidity as plastic heels?”

“No!” Cecily shook her head aggressively. “Rupie, I’m saying anything can be clothing. Not saying any of your stuff is bad though, oh my god.”

And then the rest of the day had dissolved into them frantically searching up plastic high-heeled boots and laughing hysterically.

Rupert had also never had much experience with working with other people when it came to his fashion hobby; as he was terrified of their take on his general behaviour. Cecily often provided her services as a model, but she was Cecily and it was against the meaning of the universe if Cecily got mad at Rupert.

So it was _beyond weird_ to have someone besides Cecily who was actually _willing_ to get involved with this stupid little thing he did.

It was there, written in that one DM request in his inbox.

**_Joan1554_ ** _so one of my friends absolutely adores your work and he’s a model, so. He was wondering if he could model your clothing designs? I didn’t let him ask you directly because I barely know you and therefore can’t say I can trust you with him, so yeah. Think of me as his agent. @theprinceamir is the dude I’m talking about._

Okay.

What.

Rupert was on 11 percent battery, and also he was way too tired for this.

He sat up in his bed and scooted over a bit, groping blindly for his charger as he clicked on the ‘friend’s’ profile.

And.

Holy crap.

Rupert slammed his phone into the ground, where it ricocheted off his hardwood floor and almost hit his dog in the eye. He scrambled to pick it back up.

@theprinceamir. 3.7k followers. 214 following.

His bio. _My name’s Amir, I’m old, and_ _you honestly shouldn’t be here lol_

Gorgeous face. Eyes like chocolate. Very thick lips. Extraordinarily perfect hair.

He was hot. No denying it.

Rupert stared at his screen so intensely he was convinced it would shatter. _This_ was the person that adored his work? His cruddy, haha-looks-like-a-third-grader-made-it work? He didn’t believe it.

He backpedalled and went to stalk this Joan1554 character. Private account and no bio, but the profile picture was unmistakeably a selfie with Amir.

This was actually legit.

Oh Jesus.

What was he supposed to do? Did he reply back to Joan? Did he send Amir a message instead? Did he leave it for tomorrow when his head was clear and not clouded with fatigue?

The latter case seemed most reasonable, but if there was anything Rupert knew about himself, it was that he was most definitely NOT REASONABLE.

**_To Joan1554_ **

**_rupert.makes.clothes_ ** _okay uh. i don’t have the slightest clue how to do things like this but. i accept the offer?? If said offer was even an offer at all??? um. how do you want to do this? you don’t need to like give me his address or anything but is there anywhere in specific you want us to meet? If you guys live in my state???_

Three dots, moving in succession.

Then they vanished.

Then appeared again.

**_Joan1554_ ** _have you heard of this little café called The Heartland? Shouldn’t be too far from where you live, it’s almost dead centre of the state. We’ll be there tomorrow, 9am sharp. If we don’t see you there within fifteen minutes we’re gonna leave. You down?_

He was absolutely down.

The Heartland was adorable, was Rupert’s first thought as he stepped into the café.

It was surprisingly homey, littered with potted plants and a small water fountain rotating steadily on the windowsill beside a cat that seemed more interested in the pawing fruitlessly at the glass than anything else. The chairs had pillows, and that was all this café needed to instantly earn a spot on Rupert’s mental “things I am so in love with” list.

Speaking of which.

It was hard to not notice a face like Amir’s, even in a crowded coffee shop. His eyes and lips were a little less prominent than his Instagram profile had promised, but he was still breathtakingly beautiful. He wore a plaid jacket and a searching expression. At his hands lay an untouched cup of tea in a remarkably adorable teacup. Beside him was a young woman with short hair and a piercing gaze that seemed fierce enough to tear the framed paintings off the wall, whom Rupert assumed was Joan. She was also pretty, and if Rupert wasn’t gay he would totally have a crush on her.

Oh. He should say something.

Rupert ran a hand through his hair and tried to orient himself.

“Hey,” he said, making it clear he was talking to them, hoping that his voice was loud enough to be heard over the low murmur of the café.

Joan’s head snapped up. “You’re Rupert?”

“I- yeah.”

“Sit,” she commanded. Rupert obliged, feeling awkward. He felt Amir’s gaze on him and felt his cheeks get warm as he sank further into his sweater.

“So. How are we going to do this.” Joan spread her hands out on the table. “Come on, this isn’t going to work if all you two are going to do is stare at each other. Cooperate, please.”

“Did you make that?” Amir piped up suddenly. His voice was deep but not threatening and had a small but noticeable lilt of curiosity to it.

Rupert glanced up. “What?”

“Your sweater. Did you, like, make it?”

“Oh. Um.” It was one of his first designs- an oversized pullover made out of blue polyester. The sweater itself hadn’t been his creation really, rather a gift from his mother that had originally involved an unholy amount of ruffles. He’d just added the rainbow hearts across the front.

“Sort of,” he said. It wasn’t a lie. He kept telling himself it wasn’t a lie.

“Cool,” Amir said simply. _Cool._

“Seriously, guys.” Joan clapped her hands.

“Oh. Yeah. Um.” Rupert racked his brain for something even remotely clever to say and was disappointed in himself when he found nothing.

Amir didn’t seem to be much help either. “I don’t know, maybe like, bring some of your stuff and I can try it and we can take pictures? This isn’t like, that important.”

Okay, _ow._

Joan gave him a look. “This could be a major step, in both of your lives. This could actually get you two somewhere. Rupert, is this a career you want?”

“Y-yes,” he offered, his brain rotating as he realised he had his name in his Instagram handle and Joan wasn’t, in fact, a mind reader.

“Yeah, thought so. We can start out with Amir trying out what you think is your best material, Rupert, and maybe promote the posts a little.”

“Alright.” Amir ducked his head to take a small sip of his tea. “When?”

“Now. Rupert, you did bring some of your designs, right?”

“Uhhh.” No he hadn’t. Of course he hadn’t. “…does the sweater count?”

Joan groaned. _“Men._ Alright. Either we could stay here and wait for you to come back from your place with them, which is an option I am not a big fan of, or we go with you to your place. Which is still an option I’m not a big fan of. It’s really up to you, Rupert.”

“We’ll go to my place,” Rupert blurted. Okay. That was fine. He was fine with having two beautiful strangers in his house.

“You sure?” Amir asked, guessing his thoughts. “It’d be like… isn’t it a little awkward having people you’ve only just met in your house?”

“I live in an apartment, and… yeah, but I’ll let it slide, you know?” Rupert grinned. “This is important.”

He could’ve sworn he got the faintest smile in response.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i dont really like this chapter
> 
> it's too short, it's too....ew. it took so much time and i don't think this is enough to compensate for the amount y'all had to wait.
> 
> i might make a third part??? i don't know what i'd put in it, but. this doesn't seem like an appropriate ending and. i don't know. you guys tell me. it'll probably take forever because i'm am absolutely d r a i n e d for no reason, but hey, never say never.
> 
> like i said before, this was just something i wrote to improve my skills. never meant it was gonna be good.

“Alright, this is cute,” Amir admitted as Rupert stepped back to let him in. Because it was cute. It was a very specific type of cute, like hi-im-an-actual-person-that-has-a-life-and-not-just-a-face-on-the-internet cute.

Rupert grinned a little self-consciously, then turned to the writhing mass of fur at his feet that Amir had been completely unaware of until now. “Hey, Fitz. How are you?”

The dog barked its response, whatever the sound meant.

“Can we go in?” Joan prodded. Rupert’s head snapped up.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Haha.” Rupert ushered his dog aside, but it seemed more interested in Amir’s legs than anything else. “This is Fitzroy. He’s great emotional support.” He pat him on the head gently and walked over to a small cardboard box buried under something that Amir hoped was fabric.

“So these are my personal favourites. I don’t know how we’re gonna do this…” Rupert glanced helplessly at Joan, who shrugged helpfully.

“I was thinking set up the camera and go crazy,” she offered.

“Okay. Um.” Rupert opened the box. “Take your pick?” He glanced up at Amir and, okay, his eyes were like. _Really_ green. Did he wear contacts?

“Do you wear contacts?” Amir blurted. Haha. That was fine too.

“Uh.” Rupert tilted his head questioningly. “No?”

Silence.

“I’m gonna get the camera.” Joan spun round. Amir gave her a very clear “please don’t leave me with the cute guy” look, but either she didn’t notice or she didn’t care.

She was cool like that though.

“So here’s one I really like,” Rupert said immediately after she left, as if he was trying to save them both from an awkward hush that was threatening to cloak the room. He brandished a red varsity jacket with black sleeves and a chest pocket branded with a symbol that looked suspiciously like a dragon. The logo was only a few lines but the wing and head were distinguishable, and the stitchwork was impeccable.

“This is really good,” Amir said, hyper-aware that he had not offered any information that supported the fact that he was a Sort Of Nice Person and that he probably looked like a bit of a jerk outwardly. “Like. _Really_ good,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t made his point clear already.

He wanted to kick himself. But that was nothing new.

Rupert ran a hand through his hair and grinned sheepishly. “Thank you.”

Joan rescued them both from a trade of in coherent compliments by her return. “Here.” She placed the camera on Rupert’s coffee table and held out the tripod like a weapon. Rupert flinched away from her and Joan muttered an apology before setting the camera up.

“Okay. There we go. Amir, you do your thing, and I need to talk to a few people.”

Amir glanced at her. “Are the people you’re talking to have any relation to this?”

“Um, no? I have a life that doesn’t revolve around you?” Joan took out her phone, but she had a vague grin that Amir knew full well meant she meant no harm. That grin was a crack in her professional composure that only those close to her would understand.

“Um. Rupert.”

Rupert started and looked at her. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to work a camera?”

“Ummmm.” He glanced at the piece of machinery on the table. His expression was an open book, easy to decipher. He had basic knowledge but he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to put the others at risk of a potential mistake he believed he was prone to making, plus there was the whole “STRANGERS IN MY HOUSE” situation.

He straightened up, still tense. “Sort of.”

“Okay. Cool. I’ll leave you guys here, this call is important.” Joan rocked on her heels and went out the door.

Amir subconsciously put on the jacket Rupert had given him on and looked expectantly at him. “So…?”

“Oop. Yes. Okay.” Rupert held the camera like it was a grenade. “Do I just…?”

“Yeah.”

Amir felt uncomfortable for the first time in front of a camera. Normally he wouldn’t care, given the fact that standing in front of a camera was literally his job, but there was something that was different. He knew what, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

“So. How is it being almost Instagram-famous?”

Okay. Small talk. Amir could do that.

Rupert moved and the camera went off.

“I mean.” Amir shifted. “I’m nowhere near famous.”

“You have almost four thousand followers.”

“Yeah. Have you seen celebrity Instagram accounts? They have a couple million at least.”

 _Click._ Another flash. Amir shifted again.

“You do have a nice face. You’ll probably get a million within a few months, I bet.”

“Ha. Maybe.”

_Click._

“I just wish people would look beyond my face, you know?”

“…Elaborate?”

“Do you think I’m nothing but just some handsome dude on the internet? I have a life. I have feelings. I want people to see that.”

_Click._

There was a silence. Amir glanced over, worried Rupert was too overwhelmed to continue.

“No, I…” Rupert blinked fast. “…Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m…”

“Wait. I didn’t mean you specifically, I just-”

“N-no, it’s fine. I’m sorry because I thought that way too. And I don’t want to be that person, so. Sorry.”

Amir stilled.

“It’s… alright. I just. I hope you see me as an actual person.”

“I do. I do.”

They stared at each other for a very long, awkward moment.”

“You should probably change,” Rupert suggested.

“Yeah, sure.”

Amir reached for another one of Rupert’s beautiful designs, hoping the fabric disguised the smile that was snaking its way up its face.

This was progress.

**Author's Note:**

> so like, i've been into the two princes fandom for a while but never had the courage to write anything for it- this is me trying to get used to writing in the boys' pov because i'll prolly be writing more in the future.
> 
> i know there are probably a few holes in the plotline, i'm tired and started this entirely on this tiny weak thread of an au idea i got in the middle of my science class forgive me
> 
> amir may be a little ooc but sdfghj frick it
> 
> also you can probably see the parts where i tried to refrain from cussing lol


End file.
